You're A Silly Jerk
by Lizziebeth93
Summary: Mycroft Holmes offers the resident of 221C money in exchange for information on his brother. But, if that's the only reason he spoke to her why did he follow her to dinner?
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: **_**Thought I'd give a Mycroft fic a go. I think he could be fun to toy with. Amd I like to make outfits to go with my main characters. Polyvore is the site and lizziebethmy is the name. I'll put a link on my profile.**

"Isabella, where are you off to?" John asked as I stomped up the stairs from 22C.

"Heading out for a bit. Wandering I think. Are you all in for the evening?" I answered as I pulled a coat on over my navy shirt dress. I dropped my nude pumps and grabbed my neighbor's shoulder as I slid them on.

"All dolled up. We are. Have fun."

"Thanks you," I grinned as I kissed his cheek. "Just going to shop and possibly have a few drinks and treat myself to dinner. Have fun with Sherlock. I'm sure he's bored already." John rolled his eyes.

"He is. I may have to get drunk off my tits to handle him."

"Lofty goals," I called over my shoulder. The chill of London air hit me as I turned and made my way to a bakery a couple of blocks away. I'd been living in London for a couple of months. Somehow the bustle of people and feel of the cold air will never lose its newness. I come from the southern United States. We had long hot summers and short warm winters. I turned into the bakery and made my way to the counter. The little bakery was packed. Though there were very few tables, they were all packed. All but one.

"Hello," I sang as I reached the counter. "Can I just get a slice of malted milk chocolate cake? It looks divine. And a bottle of water?"

"Of course. Just a moment," the young man replied. I paid and took my cake before making my way to the table. I sat down and dug into the cake. I looked up as an umbrella came into view.

"I'm sorry to intrude, but it would seem that there are no free tables. Would it bother you terribly if I sat down here?" he gave a smile as he tilted his head. I took him in. Tall. Dignified. Handsome as hell. Why the hell not?

"Of course not. Take a seat?" I answered motioning to a chair then noticing that we'd made the same choice in cake. "Good choice. One of my favorites. Cake's a weakness."

"It did look quite delectable. Cake is a weakness of mine as well. Might I ask you a question Isabella?" I froze and stared him down. He just continued to smile as he took a bite of cake.

"Excuse my language sir, but how the fuck do you know my name?"

"Oh Isabella. Such crass language. You live in the same building as Sherlock Holmes, do you not?"

"Listen up, we're two blocks away. I will call him if you touch me."

"That's not where I'm going at all. Though he does consider me his arch enemy."

"Is that actually a thing?"

"It is to him. But fret not my dear. I'm his brother. I only know your name because I keep an eye on him. I worry. Which brings us to my question." I arched an eyebrow. "I would like you to report his comings and goings to me. I'll pay you for your efforts of course."

"You know my name and never even met me. Why can't you use that to follow him?"

"He can thwart me that way."

"Well my answer is no."

"Are you certain my dear?" I nodded.

"I am quite certain," I pushed my plate away. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm heading to dinner."

"Cake first? My kind of woman," he drawled. "Might I join you? I feel I could enjoy your company."

"What an honor," I rolled my eyes. "Join me if you'd like, but know I find you to be an arrogant prick." He came around the table to hold my coat up for me.

"Duly noted.


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N:**_**Chapter two! Woot. Trying to get this going. Any reviews, be they positive or negative, would be appreciated.**

"Only a minor position in the government, hm?" I hummed with a smirk. Mycroft, as I'd now learned his name to be was really quite charming. I was shocked. Sherlock and I had zero relationship. John and I had tea regularly so I kept up with the goings on of Sherlock's life but the most I'd spoken to him was to be yelled at. So I gave him his distance. Slowly he'd begun to grow on me and he had begun to tolerate me. But Mycroft was downright charming. And handsome. I'd always been a fan of older men.

"Very minor," he chuckled to himself. From what he'd said so far, I had an inkling he was more in charge than he let on. "What about yourself? What do you do?"

"I teach dance. I used to compete."

"Oh really?" he quirked an eyebrow and let a stiff smile cross his face. "What kind of dance?"

"Competitively, I focused in ballroom and latin. In showcases? Anything I could do. Ballet, jazz, broadway, you name it."

"Fascinating," he grinned when the check came. I reached forward to take it but he caught it before I could.

"Now, Isabella. What kind of man would I be if I let a beautiful woman pay for her dinner?" he tutted as he leaned forward. "I've got this."

"Why thank you Mycroft," I answered with a small smile. "How very chivalrous."

"I do try. Chivalry is not dead, after all. Are you ready?" he asked. I nodded and he came around to hold my coat up for me. We made our way to Baker Street. We poked fun at everyone as we passed, noticing the littlest details. He was quite like Sherlock in that sense. He always noticed the tiniest details.

"Would you care for a cup of tea?" I asked once we'd reached 221. I could see Sherlock and John were out. Or at the very least Sherlock was. The lights were actually off. Mycroft nodded and followed me down the stairs. Somehow a cup of tea had turned into a bottle of wine and now I was sat on the floor next to a tipsy Mycroft.

"How haven't you seen it?" I asked, almost offended.

"'m not sure," he said with a lopsided grin. "Jus' never got 'round to it 'spose."

"Well," I began, stumbling to my feet. "'S'a good thing I 'ave it on DVD." I grabbed an old copy of _I Love Lucy._ I popped it in the player and sat down with my head on Mycroft's shoulder. After several hours and a sober up snack, Mycroft sighed. It was three in the morning and the buzz had worn off.

"Isabella. As lovely as this has been I really must call my car and leave. It was an unexpected surprise." I pulled a face.

"I suppose I can accept that. We'll have to spend time together again soon," I said.

"I'm certain that can be arranged." He leaned down and kissed me gently before turning and leaving.

"Well fuck," I stated to my empty apartment. It was an odd ending to the night. And now I had no way to contact him. And I didn't hear from him for two weeks. Then one day as I left the studio I teach at I received a phone call. I nervously smoothed my dress and straightened my jacket.

"Hello?" I began nervously. I hated receiving calls from unknown numbers.

"Hello beautiful. There's a car pulling up. Please get in. It will bring you to me."

Mycroft really does have a way with wooing a lady. Rolling my eyes I slowly made my way to a shining black car.

"Mycroft Holmes. I've not heard from you. You can't be expecting this to go well."


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: Woot. Chapter three.**_

"This way," a beautiful brunette said, motioning for me to follow her. We made our way through a hallway into a sitting room. I saw Mycroft standing by a window watching the streets of London

"You really do have a flair for the dramatic, don't you Mr. Holmes," I stated sarcastically. He turned around, a small smile pulling on the edges of his mouth.

"Well, I do like to get the attention of those I wish to speak to. How are you today Isabella? You look lovely."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, but thank you. Now why the hell am I here?"

"Patience dear. I simply wanted to see you again."

"Well, then why didn't you just call me? I'd have come without all this pomp and circumstance," I huffed, crossing my arms and plopping myself into a chair. A quite cushy one at that.

"You would?" he asked, seeming genuinely surprised I'd be willing to be around him. For a brief moment the serious man in front of me seemed surprised someone wanted him around. "This is usually what it takes."

"Mycroft. I enjoyed dinner and drunken _I Love Lucy_ with you. You're a kind, funny man. Sherlock may not be too openly fond of you, but I make my own judgments. I'm a big girl. But I will not be told to get in a car and have that be how you contact me." I partly fumed, partly explained. "In order to see me you call me, we see what days work, and then go out. If it's been a busy week you can call me and ask me to meet you for lunch or dinner last minute. But don't you dare kidnap me and expect that to be how it works. You don't kiss a girl, not call her for two weeks, then expect everything to be hunky dory when you pick her up." I was getting frustrated the more I tried to explain.

"Isabella," he sighed. "This is how I do things. I wanted to take you out to lunch. I don't call. I just do." I stomped up to him and jammed a finger into his chest.

"That may be how you do with your little brother and whoever you're trying to get to spy on him, but that won't fly with my Mycroft Holmes. Judging by the fact you kissed me last time then kidnap me to go to lunch, I'm going to guess this was an attempt at a date." I paused as he nodded. "I'm down to go on a date with you. But you know what Mycroft? I'm a damn lady. And if you expect for me _not_ to be upset when you don't follow protocol, you've got another thing coming. Now here is my mobile number. Yes I know you have it but humor me. I will accompany you to lunch, but next time you will call me from your cell phone. I will save it in my contacts. Any dates will be arranged beforehand through an invitation. Not a kidnapping. Deal?" Mycroft looked flabbergasted. I guess women don't tend to stand up to the British government.

"I suppose that is not asking much," he sputtered. "I apologize profusely for my mistake. Shall we start over?"

"That would work," I smiled. "Mycroft, how are you this afternoon?"

"Quite well, dear. You look stunning. I was wondering if you'd care to accompany me to lunch?" he asked kissing my hand.

"Of course," I answered. He offered his arm to me and I placed my arm through his. We exited the sitting room to see the woman from earlier smirking.

"Anthea, I'm off to lunch. I'll be back in an hour or so," he called behind him. He looked down at me. "How does Italian sound?"


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N**_**: Chapter four is a-go! Any reviews would be greatly appreciated.**

Lunch with the elder Holmes had been absolutely lovely. I'd become quite enamored. He was kind, smart, and really quite funny. Despite the all business front he tried to put up he really was a sweetheart. We walked hand in hand back to where the car had brought me, which I now knew to be his home.

"I had a great time Mycroft," I smiled stupidly.

"As did I Isabella. I'm afraid I must bid you farewell though. I have work to do."

"Of course. I'll just grab a cab back to Baker Street." Mycroft shook his head as the black car from earlier pulled up.

"Take this," he said sternly. "And just humor me. Isn't it more gentlemanly to see to it you get home safely?" I sighed.

"Okay Mycroft." He smirked triumphantly. Then he leaned down and kissed me. The feeling of his lips was divine. I most certainly had become smitten. I wrapped my arms around his neck. After a few seconds, or hours, I couldn't tell which, he leaned his forehead against mine. A broad smile was on his face.

"Be safe, okay? I'll call you soon. I promise to be a gentleman. No cars."

"Sounds good. Have a good afternoon at work." He smiled. "Until next time, Mycroft," I said pecking his lips.

"Until next time, darling," he looked almost surprised at this term of endearment. He called me dear, but he called most women we'd encountered dear. Darling was a whole new monster. The door shut before I could fully register it. When I finally returned to 221C I flipped the light on. And there sat Sherlock.

"Isabella," he said sternly, fingers steepled and eyes focused. I noticed John to the side, giving me an awkward smile. "Why were you with Mycroft today?"

_Fuck, _I swore internally. This was going to get weird.

"We went out to lunch."

"You're spying on me for him," he said incredulously. "If you'd told me I'd have written up reports and split the fee. But know I'm aware I cannot tru-"

"Sherlock Holmes, the world does not revolve around you," I groaned. "I went to lunch with Mycroft because we had fun at dinner a couple weeks ago." John's eyebrows shot up and Sherlock looked at me seriously.

"Mycroft does not believe caring to be an advantage. But I can see you've been kissed lately. Really, you kissed him? Disgusting."

"Mycroft may not consider caring to be a advantage, but thus far he does seem to care at least a little bit. And yes, we did kiss. He may be your arch enemy but that's simply because he watches over you. He most certainly cares about you, you ass." Sherlock scowled for a moment before returning his face to its usual stoic look.

"I will not meddle in it any further then" Sherlock said simply. "Who you choose to associate with on a romantic and sexual level is none of my business. But I hope you're prepared to meet mummy eventually. They're actually quite close, well for the Holmes' family that is." And with that he was off. John came and stopped in front of me.

"You like him?" he asked looking at me seriously.

"I do. He's sweet and funny," I responded.

"Treats you well?"

"Very. Made me take a car instead of cab so he'd be certain I remained safe."

"Well, he may seem like a bit of an ass, but he obviously only has the best intentions when it comes to Sherlock. If he hurts you, you tell me, yeah?"

"Of course."

"Then I hope everything goes well for you. You deserve to be happy and if that's with a Holmes, then God bless you."


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N:**_** Chapter five time. I'm trying really hard to update regularly and some reviews would be appreciated. I'm kind of stumbling blindly here.**

"Hello," I groaned into my phone a couple of days later. My sinuses were acting up horribly. John, always the good doctor, had given me strict orders not to get out of bed, drink lots of fluids, and text him if I need anything. My head was congested, throat sore, and I could not stop coughing. Needless to say, John had gotten texts at every meal.

"Are you feeling ill darling?" Mycroft's voice drifted over the line. I leaned back and put a hand on my forehead.

"What was your first clue?" I replied sarcastically. He let out a laugh.

"The tone, I suppose. I was going to ask you to dinner tonight but I can see you're not up to it," he said lightly. "Are you okay? Do you need anything?"

"I'm okay," I mumbled. "Sinuses. They're usually fine, but when they do act up they're a bitch."

"Okay. Sleep darling. If you need anything at all, let me know."

"Of course Mycroft. I miss you."

"I miss you too," he confessed, seeming embarrassed. "I'll speak to you soon."

"Good. That's good." With that he hung up the phone. I rolled out of bed and dragged a blanket behind me as I claimed the sofa and flipped the tv on. My stomach rumbled and I looked at the clock. Noon, time for lunch.

_Jooooohn, will you pick up some take out? I'll buy you lunch?_

I fumbled through channels until my phone buzzed.

_Of course. Mozzarella,pesto, and balsamic on the big toasty bread?_

I sent him a text approving of his suggestion and waited. He walked in and plopped down on the couch with me. I paid him back for the food and we began to eat.

"By the way," John said with a smile. "Guess who called me to be certain you were all right."

"Hmmmm, Mycroft?" John nodded.

"He was worried. It was sweet. And strange. Mycroft is usually so serious."

"He's uptight, but if he loosens up, he's a riot."

"He obviously cares. I approve." I rolled my eyes. We finished our lunch and the afternoon went by in a flurry of tissues, water, and tea. I woke up from a nap to the sound of a knock on my door. I rolled out of bed and went to the door. I yanked my nightshirt down before yanking it open. There stood Mycroft with a bag of take out and a bunch of daisies in a vase.

"I thought if you cannot go out, I could bring dinner to you." He said smoothly before leaning down to kiss my cheek. He held the flowers out to me awkwardly, as if he didn't know how to give them to me.

"Thank you My," I said with a grin, smelling them then kissing him. They're lovely."

"I thought they may improve your disposition. Daisies seems the most like you." He was stiffening up and going into government mode.

"They have. The gentleman who brought them doesn't hurt either," I teased. He looked flustered as he sat down. "Cup of tea?"

"Please. But I'll make it," he swooped off the couch and into the kitchen.

"My, I've got this." He took the tea pot from my hands. "Go sit down."

"But-"

"Sit. You're ill darling." He made the tea and came to sit next to me. After filling two teacups he lifted his arm and looked at me expectantly. I leaned into him and placed my head lightly on his shoulder.

"So what's the film of the evening?" he asked placing a box of crab ragoon in my lap.

"These are my favorite! I could live on them. How'd you know? And we'll be watching _Labyrinth_."

"I delved into some of my sources. Credit cards transactions say a lot. And that's the movie with David Bowie, right?"

"You checked my credit card history?" I asked with my nose scrunched. "I'll give you the credit that the intentions were sweet. And yes with Bowie." He made a face like he'd smelled something unpleasant and I giggled. "Don't worry, it can wait until after we eat."

We ate and cuddled and laughed. Then we ended up snogging like teenagers instead of watching the movie. The only reason there was any pause was because my door flung open to reveal a John Watson with his jaw at his chest and a bag of sinus pills in the other. Mycroft shot up and brushed his hair down before awkwardly nodding at John and walking out the door. I scrunched my eyebrows and made an attempt to smooth my hair.

"He doesn't do well with the whole feelings thing. I think you walking in just made his brain explode slightly. Thanks for the meds."


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N:**__** Sorry updates are a bit scattered. Summer courses started up. I made this one extra-long and kind of sappy in repayment for your patience.**_

"My, answer the damn phone," her voice drifted from my voicemail. It has been three days since I'd left her flat. She has a strange hold on me. Caring, as I've always told Sherlock, is not an advantage. But here I am sitting in my office and kicking myself for my behavior. I behaved in a most immature manor, snogging her as if I were a teenager. And then I just left when John walked in. She must be furious. It would be best to leave it here. Never return her calls.

Because caring for her is not an advantage.

No matter how many times I say it to myself, images flash through my mind. How her green eyes sparkle when she finds something funny. The way she looks at me like I'm not an old man married to the job. How her nose scrunched up when she stood up to me. Simply that she doesn't bend to my every whim is enough to bewitch me. I spend my time with other government officials, their wives, and Anthea. Due to my position, all three groups may feign resistance but they eventually give me what I want.

But not Isabella. She feels no qualms about jamming her finger into my chest and telling me just where I can put the car I sent to pick her up without warning. She brings something out in me I'm not used to. She makes me want nothing more than to sit on her couch with her tucked underneath my arm and watch movies, read, or even just talk. She's a spitfire, completely untamable, one minute, but the next she's the perfect lady. I could even bring her to functions. She knows exactly how to behave in my circles. But no, I mustn't think such things.

On the other hand, what is there to lose? I could be happy with her. I could protect her from everything awful out there. If I could, I'd tuck her away from the world. But then the realistic side of me quashes my dreams.

You have enemies, Mycroft. They would hurt her.

She'll tire of you, you old fool. Right now you're a novelty.

But soon I find myself dialing her number.

"Mycroft?" she snaps into the phone. I smile despite myself.

"Isabella," I reply, keeping my tone even.

"What the actual fuck? Why haven't you returned my calls?"

"Isabella. Can I explain these things in person? I need to fully explain some things to you and I feel it only fair to do it face to face." I heard her sigh.

"When should I expect a car?" she asked. I could practically see her blowing her hair up as she put a hand on her hip.

"Fifteen minutes. You're at Baker Street I presume?"

"Why don't you tell me Mr. Holmes?" she snarked before hanging up. I sent the car to pick her up and took a cab to my home. No reason to make the lady take two car rides. I put the kettle on and smiled when I heard the clicking of heels.

"Explain Mycroft," she demanded setting herself at a stool in my kitchen. Her red curls were all pinned on top of her head, a few strays falling in her face. I poured her a cup of tea with two sugars, just as she liked, and sat down on the stool across from her. To anyone else this could have passed for domestic bliss. Myself and the beautiful woman I'd come to care for sitting across from each other in my kitchen.

"Do you know what I was always taught by my parents Isabella? Mummy always taught us that caring is not an advantage. That was the golden rule of the Holmes' household. And it is a rule I've followed. I've never been one for relationships because caring always puts one at a disadvantage. Other than a couple brief flings in my college years, I've had nothing but professional relationships. Maybe one or two that stem from Sherlock are friendlier than I care to admit, but I've never had a romantic relationship-"

"That's horribly lonely, isn't it My?" Placing a dainty hand on my knee, she was looked at me with those eyes and I realized I'd made my decision.

"I never thought it was. But now I want you in my life. For the first time I do care. And it scares me senseless. Sherlock and I learned not to care. All of the sudden you popped in and everything was turned on its head. You don't follow my orders or think my surveillance is okay. You challenge me and make me let go as much as I ever can. I panicked that evening because I realized I'd gone and broken my own rule. I cared. I didn't regulate my every action. I ate take away with snogged a beautiful woman. And being caught letting something other than my mind take the lead scared me. And as disappointed as I was when he became so attached to a woman a few months back and as confused as I was when I realized how he cares for Lestrade, John, and Mrs. Hudson, I now realize that's something Sherlock learned before me. Caring is not an advantage necessarily, but it is a wonderful thing. I like the idea of having a woman who wants to be with me as much as I want to be with her. While it's terrifying and something I must adjust to, I want this." I realized how much I'd said. Much more than I'd intended. She was staring at me and I just knew I'd frightened her. She wasn't going to want this much baggage. So aloof to relationships.

"Mycroft," she began softly. "Thank you. Thank you for telling me all this. Hell, if you'd done it in the first place I may have even approached things differently. I do want to be with you. You're a wonderful man. You may think you don't care about people, but I can see how much you care about Sherlock and even John. It may be hard to get used to for you, but I want you around me. I want to kiss you and hug you and act like an idiot. I care about you." I felt my face break into a smile. A real genuine smile. That was something I hadn't felt in a while. I leaned in and kissed her. Her smell intoxicated me as I lost myself in the feel of her lips against mine. We finally broke apart and she smiled.

"Now, you do have to promise me to keep me more in the loop with your inner stuff, okay? I can help and understand more if you share these things."

"I will try, my darling. But you must understand that it is a part of my upbringing. You may have to coax it from me sometimes."

"Deal," she smiled, taking my hand. "Now let's go get some dinner, handsome."


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N: **_**I'm actually going to be on time or even early with this one! Yay! AND I have the next chapter pretty much written. This one is just pretty fluffy. Because I like fluff. I may do a one shot from Mycroft's POV because reasons.**

"Darling?" Mycroft answered his phone.

"My, can you meet for lunch today? I miss you." I cooed into the phone. It had been three months since Mycroft and I had our heart to heart in his kitchen. He'd been gone for two weeks, some sort of top secret meetings, and I'd not gotten to see him yet. His plane landed early that morning and he'd gone straight into work. And to make matters worse, I was helping him get Sherlock to mummy Holmes's dinner tonight so it wasn't as if I'd have him to myself for long.

"I can try to sneak off, I suppose," he said lightly into the phone. He was at work, so he sounded all business yet I could hear the teasing tone in his voice, however faint it was.

"Yay!" I cheered. "This two weeks away thing was not okay. The government is silly."

"I missed you as well my dear." Someone was in the room. He was trying to remain composed. "The car will pick you up at 11:30, so long as that works for you."

"Of course. See you then handsome." Realizing that left me fourty-five minutes, I grabbed my makeup bag and readied myself. After the usual ride, I found myself out front Mycroft's office building. He was waiting for me and offered his arm when I exited the car. I hugged him. He stiffened then relaxed, hugging me back. He offered his arm again, kissing me chastely. I slipped my arm through his and we walked towards a sandwich shop a couple of blocks away. He filled me in on what he could of his trip. I told him how my student's had progressed. It was nice, being with him. Things came easily.

"Now there is the matter of getting Sherlock to mum's tonight," Mycroft began with a grimace. She was having some sort of dinner party and had put Mycroft in charge of getting the younger Holmes there. I'd already been warned she'd be horrid to me. She wouldn't like me because I was American. She wouldn't like that I spoke up. All in all, having Sherlock there and miserable made the whole thing seem more tolerable.

"John's basically forcing him into the car with me. You just better me there too mister," I said waggling my finger at him. He raised his eyebrows and suppressed a smile.

"Really now?" he asked.

"Yes. I'll be too dolled up to get messy dealing with Sherlock," I said with a smile.

"All right. I'll come over once I get dressed after work," he said with a smile as he kissed my knuckles. We walked back towards his office and I headed for Baker Street. Upon fully realizing that I'd be introduced to mummy Holmes I decided to spend the rest of the afternoon pampering myself. With Mycroft's schedule I'd not had an excuse to wear an extra nice dress and get all dolled up. It seemed as good a night as any.

I marched into my flat and dropped my purse on the couch. I made a pot of tea and brought it with me into my bathroom, where I drew a bath. I soaked in the tub, exfoliating,shaving, and just generally having a spa day of my own. I even threw on a face mask. Once I got out, I put on my underthings, even the garter belt I've always had a soft spot for and my stockings. I really do have quite a fondness for having garter belts instead of tights. I put my dressing gown on and set to work on curling my hair. I eventually became so engrossed in applying my foundation I yelped when Mycroft called my name through the flat. I glanced at the clock and realized I'd lost track of time.

"In here!" I called back to him, straightening my gown. We had slept together, but I knew with how Mycroft works too much skin too quickly would make him uncomfortable.

"You already look breathtaking, darling." I smiled and looked at him in the mirror.

"Thank you My, You look handsome as always." And of course he did. A pinstripe suit, crisp white shirt, and deep red tie and pocket square. "We're that couple. We match."

"Do we?" he asked with a chuckle.

"Exactly. My dress is white with red bubble polka dot things."

"Even your," he cleared his throat awkwardly, "Underpinnings match." It never failed to make me smile how awkward he could be.

"I suppose so," I answered watching him in the mirror as I applied red lipstick. He, in return, watched as I struggled with winging my eyeliner. I stood up and went to grab my dress. I slid my robe off and pulled the dress on. I sat back at the stool and could feel Mycroft's eyes still on me as I set to unrolling my hair.

"Sweetheart?" I cooed over my shoulder. "Is this really so fascinating to you?" It was so unlike him to blatantly stare. To not even speak.

"You just look ravishing. I'm thinking how lucky I am," he murmured while I slid jewelry on. I stopped and turned to face him as he continued. "You're so wonderfully elegant. But still a damn firecracker. You're the best thing in my life." A lump grew in my throat as Strode over to him and kissed him lightly. Couldn't leave any lipstick on his collar before the dinner. He pulled me down into his lap. This tender display of affection was unusual from Mycroft. He was affectionate yes. And he showered me with praise. But always very dignified about it. Moments like these when he got sentimental and almost self-conscious always warm my heart.

"I love you My," I grinned, pressing my forehead against his.

"I love you too, my darling."


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:**** I am a horrendous updater. Please don't hate me. I just feel discouraged with this story. Feedback would be appreciated. I may have a smutty chapter coming up. I've never written one before, so forgive me if it's terrible. I'm giving it a go.**

"Mycroft," A elegant woman cooed as the door opened. "So good of you to come. I'm guessing this is your _lady friend_." She let the last words drop out as she looked me over.

"Yes mummy. This is Isabella," Mycroft responded wrapping his arm around my waist protectively.

"Wonderful to meet you," I smiled, extending a hand.

"Likewise," she answered turning and walking to a group of her guests. I exhaled and rolled my eyes.

"Myyyy," I whined. "Is she going to be like this all night?"

"I'm afraid so darling. She disproves of me choosing a woman. She is of the opinion I should marry someone of her choosing."

"That's quite annoying, don't you think?" He stifled a smile. I'd become quite good at getting his guard to fall in private moments.

"I suppose. Now let's go mingle dear. I want you to meet people." I followed him to a small group to the side and mingled with the best of them. As wine was brought around I took a glass. As I took my first sip, mummy Holmes ushered Mycroft towards the kitchen.

"You don't mind do you?" she called over her shoulder as Mycroft shot me an apologetic look. With my buffer gone, the attention turned to me.

"How'd you two meet?" a man asked.

"How long have you been together?" another asked.

"We always assumed he'd remain a bachelor," a woman chimed in.

"We met in a café three months ago." I answered calmly before taking a healthy swig of wine. Sherlock was walking in, Mycroft and I agreeing to let him come late as long as John brought him. "And I don't know. He was quit flirty with me." I looked around nervously. Sherlock caught my eye and scowled. I took another swig of wine as his face transformed. He strode over.

"Isabella," he began with what appeared to be a smile. "Have you seen mother?"

"I have!" I answered, glad for the distraction. "Shall I show you were?" He nodded ans I excused myself from the conversation. "Thanks for that."

"No problem," he answered, his demeanor back to normal. "Many years of these things have brought me to master the quick escape."

"Still. Very sweet. I thought you didn't approve of your brother and I."

"Somehow, Mycroft being more emotionally attached has made him tolerable. Keep up the good work." And with that he veered down a hallway, leaving me on my own. I wandered around, attempting to find my way back to the people.

"I only want what's best for you, darling," Mrs Holmes shouted behind the door I was passing. I think I've found my beau.

"Mummy," he said calmly, though I could hear the frustrated edge to his tone. "Isabella is what is right for me." Shit. It was related to me.

"Mycroft Holmes. She is American. She's not of your breeding. She's not even in a reputable business. Dance teacher? Quite silly for a government official's wife."

"I love her. That's what matters."

"Caring is not an advantage." I could feel the staredown that must have been occurring in that pause.

"I used to agree. But you're wrong."

"What can't you just marry Beatrice?" she shouted. "You two are from the same background. She's beautiful, elegant, and of the right breeding. Perfect for your office."

"Because mother, I don't love her."

"Love is not what matters. It's appearances."

"Well mummy," he stated coolly. "If she's that much of an issue, we'll leave." I was hanging on every word. I felt awful for that potential rift. "I nearly didn't let her into my life. I'm not leaving her now."

"You can't do that. How will it look? My own son leaving with his little play thing."

"She's not a plaything. She's my girlfriend," he replied, never losing his cool. Mrs. Holmes stormed out of the room, passing by me with out notice. Mycroft strode past as well. I grabbed his arm and he turned to me.

"Spying are we?" he asked with a smile.

"Mycroft. I fucked up." I felt horrible. A rift in the Holmes family. Between the only two members that liked each other. "I'll leave."

"Bella," he cooed, pulling me into him. "Don't leave without me. We'll both head out. You've nothing to be upset about."

"My, she's right." I really wasn't up to snuff. He's dignified, in a place of power. I'm a dance teacher who can barely keep herself mingling without her boyfriend.

"Bella. Don't you ever say that again," he snapped.

"My. I don't know how to function in these social events."

"You did a damn fine job tonight. Up until I left, Richard and Greg were enchanted by you. Just like every other person you meet." I leaned into him.

"Promise?" I asked, my face in the crook of his neck.

"Promise," he assured me. He called for his car and we left mummy Holmes's house before appetizers. We went to his house and Mycroft opened a bottle of wine.

"I'm going to go steal some of your pajamas," I giggled. If we're going to be lazy tonight, I want to be comfortable."

"Fine," he answered. "You know where they are." I bounded up the stairs. I went into Mycroft's closet and dug up a dark blue cotton pajama set. My croft doesn't do pajamas that don't match. I slipped out of my dress, garters, stockings, and heels and sighed as I pulled on the pajamas. They were far too big for me. The shirt threatened to slide off my shoulder. But they'd have to do. I went to wash my face and stuck my head into Mycroft's room when I heard him enter.

"If you're going to be comfortable, I will too," he stated, grabbing a pair of green pajamas.

"Be my guest," I laughed, patting my face dry. "I most certainly don't mind the view." It dawned on me this was our first oddly domestic night together. It hadn't started well. The party I'd gotten so dressed up for was a disaster. But now we were about to cook dinner and drink wine in our pajamas. Well, his pajamas. Any other time I'd stayed at Mycroft's it had been just before we left for a date or after a date when domesticity was the farthest thing from our minds. I padded after him as we headed down stairs.


	9. Chapter 9

_**A/N: SMUTTY MC SMUT SMUT CHAPTER. We will return to your normal fluff next chapter.**_

"We can make pizza," I stated finally, having appraised his fridge contents. "You really need to do more shopping."

"I rarely eat here," he shrugged. I set to work making the dough as Mycroft poured me a glass of wine. I took a sip, setting it down before beginning to knead the dough. I was fighting the sleeve of Mycroft's pajamas. They'd slid off of my shoulder. I tried to push it up when I felt Mycroft's arms around me.

"You're beautiful," he murmured into my ear. I blushed.

"Such a charmer." I answered, flattening the dough, Mycroft's grip making it difficult. I had a hard time accepting compliments, never knowing how to react.

"Don't say that. It implies untruth," he scoffed, kissing my ear. "It's a fact."

"Thank you," I answered leaning into him. The pesky pajamas slipped again and before I could catch them, Mycroft's lips were on my collar bone.

"Myyy," I sighed, leaning into him. "We need food."

"Not important," he murmured against my pulse. I sighed as he turned me around. Normally he was frantic, pulling clothes off. But right now, he was focused. I wrapped my arms around him as he nipped up and down my neck, immediately kissing him way back. He lifted me up and set me onto the counter. Instinctively my legs wrapped around his waist and I groaned when his he finally kissed my lips. I could feel the corners of his mouth twitch. Slowly he slid his tongue across my lip and I opened my mouth to him. I shakily started to undo his shirt buttons as our tongues battled for dominance. I slid it off of him, running my hands over his chest. The feeling of his skin against my palms was amazing. He pulled back and placed his forehead on mine. He carried me the short distance to the couch and set me down before settling himself over me.

Our mouths attached again, Mycroft setting to work on my buttons. Once he had the shirt off of me he kneaded my breast through the bra. I tangled my fingers in his hair and moaned as he kissed down my chest and along the line of each cup. Pulling me to sit up for a second, he disposed of my bra. Once my back hit the couch, Mycroft's mouth was on my nipple, his hand teasing the other. I rubbed myself against him thigh, trying to hook his pants with my fingers. He removed himself from my breast long enough to get himself out of his pants. I groaned as I saw his erection straining against his boxers.

Before I knew it he was over me again, this time hooking his fingers on my pants. He pulled them off before I grabbed the back of his neck and crashed his lips onto my own. I ran my hands over his back, taking in the feel of his bare skin against mine. I bit his lip lightly, tugging it and eliciting a moan from Mycroft. I reached down and slid my hand under the waistband of his boxers. I pushed his into a sitting position and then pushed him onto his back before straddling him. I pulled his boxers down, watching as his cock sprang free. Lightly, I traced a finger down his stomach to the base of his cock. He groaned when I pulled my hand back. I smiled and leaned down, blowing lightly on the head of his cock. I made eye contact as my tongue darted out to lick it. His hips bucked.

"Don't tease me," he growled, a sound I loved to hear. I took him in my mouth, feeling triumphant as Mycroft let out a hiss of pleasure. "Oh Bella," he sighed as I bobbed my head. I began to focus on the head, alternating between swirling my tongue around it and blowing air against it. Mycroft suddenly pushed my shoulders back until I was laying down. He yanked my panties down and kissed my inner thigh. I moaned as he hovered in front of me. His tongue darted out, licking my folds.

"Mycroft," I moaned his name. It was a silent beg. He smirked and raised an eyebrow.

"Yes darling?" he asked, playing oblivious. "What is it you want?" His tongue darted out again.

"Fuck," I swore. He smiled up at me, still waiting for a response. I sighed. "I want you to eat me out." I answered, earning yet another smirk from Mycroft. He set to work. And damn does he do good work. He slid in two fingers, pumping them into my pussy as he licked and sucked my clit. My hips were bucking against him, but he never missed a beat. I felt that ball of heat growing in my belly and my breathing came fast. Then he crooked his fingers inside me. And that's what it took. My orgasm hit me hard as I shoved Mycroft's face into me. He lapped up all my juices, pressing his tongue against me once I had cum. He kissed his way up to me. I could taste myself as he kissed me.

We kissed again. Much more urgently this time. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he pushed into me. I groaned, digging my nails into his shoulders as I felt the familiar fullness. He put his forehead against mine as he began to move. He was moving slowly at first. Each thrust smooth and deliberate. I dug my nails into his ass, begging him to go harder, to go faster. And he did. He start to thrust into me hard and fast, maintaining eye contact as he fucked me.

"Beautiful," kept murmuring. "So beautiful. You feel so good. I love to be in you baby." Words falling effortlessly from the usually stoic man. He maneuvered so one of my ankles was in his shoulder. "Baby I'm close. So close." He started rubbing my clit as he began to thrust harder. The ball was building in my stomach. I knew I was approaching my climax.

"My, baby," I panted. "So close. So fucking close." His thrusts began to lose their rhythm. He was about to cum.

"Then cum for me baby. I want to feel you cum. Come one baby. Cum for me," he kept saying. He rubbed my clit faster and I felt it was over me. I screamed his name as I came. He followed right behind me, collapsing on his side beside me. I was coming down, not quite able to form words. I rolled towards him, kissing his salty shoulder over and over.

"That was amazing," he said against my neck as I threw one leg over him.

"It was," I agreed. "I'm not exactly sure I can move yet."

"I love you."

"I love you too," I answered. .


End file.
